Free Coroner's Pidgin by Margery Allingham Page A

somebody was going to be hanged.
    â€œIt puts a rather different colour on the tale,” he said at last.
    â€œI’m afraid so,” Carados agreed.
    His hands were behind his back and he twirled the battered yellow rose between his fingers.
    The Admiral squared his shoulders. “Well, we’ve got to see the thing through, don’t you know,” he said. “This feller I’ve got hold of can only put a little gunpowder behind the police, and wake ’em up and spur ’em on. A thing like this mustn’t be allowed to stand about. We wantit cleared up and put right, and the criminal punished. That’s a job for the police. This man can put them on their toes and keep them there. We’d better go and see him.”
    Mr. Campion thought of Oates and Superintendent Yeo, and sighed for them, and it occurred to him that if Yeo and the Admiral ever met on equal terms, which now seemed unlikely, they would certainly take an enormous fancy to each other. Meanwhile the old man was continuing.
    â€œAll the same,” he was saying, “it’s up to us to play scrupulously fair with this feller, naturally, so I’m going to ask you a direct question, Carados. I won’t put it to you here, perhaps you’ll come in another room with me.”
    There was nothing subtle about the Admiral; his meaning was obvious, and in that sophisticated company his naïveté and directness struck a slightly alarming note. Johnny appeared amazed.
    â€œI didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re after, sir,” he said.
    The Admiral, who was already advancing upon the doorway, swung round again.
    â€œThat’s what I wanted to know, and it’s the answer I expected, my boy,” he said. “You can give me your word on it, can you? It’s all I want.”
    â€œI give you my word I did not kill her,” repeated Johnny, looking as if he felt profoundly foolish.
    â€œGood enough,” said the Admiral. “Just one more thing. Do you know who did? No need to give names.”
    Johnny hesitated. It was the slightest pause imaginable, but it did occur.
    â€œNo,” he said, a little too quickly, “no, I have no idea.”
    â€œOn your word?”
    â€œYes. Yes, of course. On my word.”
    â€œSplendid. Well, if you’ll change, we’ll go.”
    The tension had slackened a little, but it was still in existence and the gathering split into little groups. Johnny went off to get his tunic, and the Admiral, who, it transpired, had known Mr. Campion’s father, was graciously disposed to congratulate him both on that fact and on his recent work abroad. The Onyers were talking together anxiously, and as soon as Carados returned Gwenda appealed to him.
    â€œJohnny, what about Edna and the police? Won’t they be coming here? I mean, oughtn’t we to wait?”
    Carados looked harassed.
    â€œMy mother was very definite when I saw her,” he said. “She never has liked interference, and if the police want us, I imagine they’ll find us.”
    â€œGood Lord, yes. We can’t wait about for the police.” The Admiral was amused. “If they’re not smartly on to their duty now I think you’ll find they’ll pipe a different tune after this evening. Come along, Carados, we can’t keep this man waiting.”
    â€œYou see no reason why Gwenda and I shouldn’t keep our luncheon engagement?” said Onyer, following the warriors into the hall. Apparently they reassured him, for he came back relieved on that point, but still dubious. “I suppose Johnny knows what he’s doing,” he observed to the room in general. “He says carry on in a perfectly normal way. Perhaps we ought to go over and see Edna first, Gwenda. What do you say?”
    â€œMy dear, we must. I know she doesn’t like interference, but you know what she is. She may do anything.”
    â€œWe’ll go